


Lies of Omission

by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Divorce, M/M, Verbal Fighting, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 20:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18972538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/pseuds/Strange%20and%20Intoxicating%20-rsa-
Summary: “I was—”“Just following orders,” Shiro snapped, the rage filling him up and screaming inside him. Shiro knew about orders—He had done it every day in the Galra pits. Kill or be killed. Back then, Shiro had still disobeyed the rules in enough ways that he was eventually able to escape.Still, the nightmares from his time in the pits never truly left him, and those were orders.There were other orders Shiro remembered, ones that cut just as deep but gave no quarter. The orders from Honerva to kill Keith—those had been so painful, so gutting, but still he had resisted. He had resisted because he knew it was right. He did it because Keith was his best friend.Curtis didn’t have nightmares. He slept peacefully.The truth finally catches up with Curtis, and sometimes omitting the truth is worse than lying.





	Lies of Omission

**Author's Note:**

> If you're a fan of Shiro and Curtis, this is unlikely a place you want to be. Please be aware this is tagged properly and warned for. 
> 
> I wrote this about five months ago, but didn't want to put it up because, well, the fandom isn't a very nice place as of late. I'm putting it up now because I'm still bitter about how badly written that ending was.

“Shiro—you don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what? That you… that you lied to me?”

Curtis stared at him with dark eyes—sad eyes. It should have made Shiro sad, should have hurt so much more than it did, but all Shiro could feel was cold.

“You… you didn’t even tell me.” 

“I...I didn’t know _how_.” Curtis tried to reach out for him, tried to grab his arm, tried to reach for his husband. The gold glittered off his hand and it made Shiro twist as far away as he could.

There was someone else that once wore a ring that Shiro had given. There was another dark-haired, sweet-faced man that Shiro had loved. And Shiro had lost Adam because of his own yearning, his own desire for the stars. It still burned hot like the sun inside him, a pain that couldn’t ever really go away. It was a pain that Shiro tried to cover up, tried to hide from the world. 

But that feeling was back and Shiro couldn’t even look at his husband. He couldn’t, because now all he could see was Adam. Adam crying out in pain. Adam screaming. Adam dying.

Sam hadn’t known when he mentioned it off-hand, about how it was Curtis who gave the call. 

Shiro wished that Sam had said it sooner. 

“Why didn’t you tell me.” It isn’t a question. It was so much more than that. 

“I—”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was… it was y—”

Curtis’s face was wet with tears now, and when he reached out for Shiro’s shoulder again he only allowed Curtis the chance to wrap his fingers around the air. 

“Please—Takashi…” 

“Don’t call me that.” Shiro’s voice felt cold; he felt cold. He shouldn’t have blamed Curtis for this. He was just following orders. He was just following orders. He was just following orders—

“Please. I didn’t… I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You lied to me. All this time… you just… you lied to me.” 

Curtis closed his eyes and allowed his hand to fall back to his sides. He slipped down onto the orange couch, the same couch that Shiro had once said his goodbyes to Adam on. 

Adam. Adam. Adam. It was a name that pounded in his head like a drum. 

“You were the one to make the broadcast.”

“Yes.” 

“You didn’t tell me—you let me marry you and you never said a _word_.” 

Shiro knew that it wasn’t technically Curtis’s fault, that the Galra would have come no matter what Curtis did or didn’t do, but it was his words. It was actions. It was _him_.

“How could you have kept that from me?” 

“I was—”

“Just following orders,” Shiro snapped, the rage filling him up and _screaming_ inside him. Shiro knew about orders—He had done it every day in the Galra pits. Kill or be killed. Back then, Shiro had still disobeyed the rules in enough ways that he was eventually able to escape. 

Still, the nightmares from his time in the pits never truly left him, and those _were_ orders. 

There were other orders Shiro remembered, ones that cut just as deep but gave no quarter. The orders from Honerva to kill Keith—those had been so painful, so gutting, but still he had resisted. He had resisted because he knew it was right. He did it because Keith was his best friend.

And even then, Shiro still had nightmares of those orders. He remembered the clone—his death, his pain, his love and friendship for another pushing out those orders. Honerva had been powerful, but Shiro’s heart had been moreso.

Curtis didn’t have nightmares. He slept peacefully.

It wasn’t fair to be so angry, but he _was_.

“Don’t say it like that.” 

But Shiro didn’t know how else he was supposed to say it, how he was supposed to explain how it felt when the rug was ripped out from under them. The honeymoon period was gone, now, and in its wake was the hard, cold facts of reality.

“I know Sam told you to do it. I know it was his orders.” Shiro paused. What should he do? What should he say? 

He closed his eyes, the gladiator pits flashing in front of his eyes. 

“I don’t…” 

Curtis stopped him. “Don’t lie, Shiro.”

This was why Curtis had never told him—

“You knew… You knew what I would think.” 

The shame that crossed Curtis’s face was proof enough. Shiro didn’t need an answer, didn’t need the words to come, but at the same time a little niggling voice in the back of his mind _did_.

“That you would blame me?” Curtis’s laugh was barking, like a wounded dog. There wasn’t anything humorous in it at all. “That you’d hate me—”

“I don’t hate you.”

Curtis shook his head. He gestured to the room around them, as though it would melt away at any moment. Maybe it would. “We have a life. We want to start a family—”

The look on Shiro’s face must have said it all. 

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

Was Shiro sorry? He couldn’t find the energy to feel guilt, not when the all-encompassing ache and pain burned through his guts. Curtis lies to him and knew it. 

He did it and slept peacefully at night. 

“I’m—I’m just gunna… go.”

Curtis was crying, and it hurt Shiro almost enough to make him stop. 

Almost. 

“Where?” Curtis’s voice was broken, a fractured shell of what he once was.

“Away.”

“Are you going to come back?”

It was such a simple sentence that sounded so meek, so sad. He reached out again for Shiro’s hand. 

Shiro looked into his husband’s eyes. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Curtis looked away, hand falling to his side. “No.”

_Then you have your answer._

He didn’t need to say it. 

Curtis knew.

Leaving their home, leaving everything Shiro had dreamed of, was easier than it had any right to be. His head was clear despite the pain in his heart, and when the door closed he found himself pulling off his ring, putting it into the mailbox. It should have hurt more than it did, but Shiro could feel it in his bones.

Truth would set him free.

No more lies. 

No more regrets.

No more of living a life with a man who didn't love him enough to tell the truth. 

The pain could have eaten Shiro to the bone, but there were other things he needed to do, other promises he needed to keep. His head was numb and yet so very clear, and though it hurt, Shiro wanted nothing more than the stars...

If they would have him.

Shiro took a breath as he looked into the night sky.

He deserved the truth.


End file.
